


fireworks in a dark sky

by qynntessence



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bubble Bath, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qynntessence/pseuds/qynntessence
Summary: Viktor will never run out of metaphors to describe Yuuri Katsuki.





	fireworks in a dark sky

**Author's Note:**

> a tumblr prompt for the three words: bubbles, roses, kind. 
> 
> TW: tipsy/drunk characters

 “Y-Yuuri!” Viktor giggles, swinging his arms around the other man’s shoulders. “Yuuri, I love champagne.” He says very seriously, and then laughs against Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri feels good.

“I know, Vitya.” Yuuri murmurs softly, kissing against Viktor’s hair. Yuuri’s kisses feel like- they feel the way fireworks in a dark sky look. They feel like when sunshine hits his skin and wind blows his hair back, they feel like the first taste of strawberry in summer.

They feel like the champagne sparkling on his tongue.

Yuuri is radiance and brightness and electricity and Viktor loves him.

“Yuuri! You’re- you’re sparkly! You’re- you’re a strawberry, Yuuri.” Viktor says confidently, kissing him back. “I love fireworks.”

“I know, Vitya. Why don’t we head back up to the room? It’s getting late.” Yuuri’s hand is around his wrist, steady and warm, like Makkachin curled up in his lap. Yuuri is scarves around his neck during winter and hugs when he comes off the ice and tea when he’s coming down with a cold.

Viktor grins and nods as Yuuri pulls them towards the elevator, eyes filled with something Viktor can’t quite place. Love and happiness and awe and something else that’s not quite a word but not quite a feeling either, something in between that Viktor might be able to name if the night was earlier or there was less alcohol coursing through his body.

“You’re so kind to me, Yuuri.” He mumbles against Yuuri’s hair, arms and body still heavily resting on the younger man’s shoulders. “So- so good. Good Yuuri.”

“Thank you, Vitya.” That not-quite-a-word-not-quite-a-feeling look is back, and stronger, and Viktor focuses hard on Yuuri’s face, trying to figure it out. He squints, looking at Yuuri’s eyebrows, and then his eyes, and then his lips- and oh, now he’s distracted again. Oh well. He’s sure he can ask later.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” Viktor does just that, collapsing into the pillows, and they’re soft like when Yuuri strokes a finger across his cheek in the morning and he doesn’t want to move ever again. Viktor nuzzles closer, trying to lose himself in the memory, but Yuuri’s hand is on his back now and its warm like summer sunshine again and nothing else matters.

“Vitya. Do you think you can change for me? You’re going to be really upset if you wake up in the morning in your tight clothes.” He knows Yuuri is right; his suit is heavy like a five-time world championship and his tie is wrapped around his neck like a gold medal, heavy and cold.

But Yuuri.

Yuuri is light and warmth and freedom. Yuuri gently loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt, hangs up his jacket and slacks, holds Viktor’s shoulder as he steps into soft sweatpants and fuzzy socks. Yuuri, who kisses his forehead and runs a hand through his hair and Viktor shivers with the feeling.

“Vitya?” Yuuri asks, and there’s more to his question but Viktor can’t hear anything else besides his name, repeated quietly in that not-quite-a-word-not-quite-a-feeling that he still can’t place.

“Hmm?” Viktor asks, eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Water, Vitya.” Yuuri laughs, and Viktor needs to know what is crossing his face when Yuuri hands him a glass. “Drink some before falling asleep. I’m going to brush my teeth.” Another kiss, another hand through his hair, and Viktor melts like chocolate over a hot stovetop.

He never had a chance with this man.

Viktor sips at his water while Yuuri undresses, and his skin looks like how warm rain feels and how coming home to dinner smells. Yuuri in a suit, Yuuri in his skating costume is all sharp lines and angles, like the sound of blades against ice, like that lime sorbet he tried last summer, hard and sharp and beautiful.

Yuuri right now, hair mussed from changing, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, Viktor’s poodle pajama pants dragging across the floor- Yuuri is his favorite movie playing after a hard skating practice, an old song from his childhood that he’d thought he’d forgotten, something familiar and melodious and beautiful.

“You’re such a pretty song.” Viktor says when Yuuri comes to take the empty glass. “Beautiful Yuuri.” He blushes that beautiful pink, and presses his beautiful lips to Viktor’s forehead, and Viktor wants to cry when he feels Yuuri’s hands in his hair.

“Get some sleep, Vitya. I love you.”

“I love you too, Yuuri.”

\--

“Yuuri. My everything hurts.”

“I know, Vitya. There’s ibuprofen on the table, I left it out last night.”

“I took it. Everything still hurts.” Viktor buries his head in Yuuri’s collarbone to block out the light streaming through the windows. “Too much.”

“I know, Vitya. I’m sorry, I forgot to close the curtains last night when you went to sleep. Just a second.” Yuuri extracts himself from the bed and the harsh light disappears to Viktor’s relief. He can hear running water and blearily sits up, expecting to be handed a glass, but is instead greeted by Yuuri in his boxers.

“Yuuri.” He stumbles through the word. “I love- I can’t- too much stimulation- I’m sorry-”

“Not that, Vitya. Just come on, hold on to me.” And Viktor does, because Yuuri is steady like a metaphor that Viktor can’t quite articulate through his headache.

He feels himself being stripped of layers and stepping into warmth, and suddenly he’s curled up, listening to Yuuri’s heartbeat, surrounded by bubbles.

“A bubble bath? Really? How in the world did you manage this?” Viktor asks loosely as Yuuri’s hand runs up and down his spine. The warm water and dark room calms the racing in his head and the pounding of his skull, and Yuuri smiles against him.

“Turns out, when you and your coach-slash-partner are both world-famous figure skaters, hotels are really helpful. How’s the headache?” Yuuri kisses his forehead and Viktor sinks lower into the water.

“Better. Thank you.”

They spend the better part of a day curled around each other, occasionally refilling the bath with warmer water, flower crowns made from roses and medals forgotten on the table. Viktor smiles at Yuuri and kisses him, and Yuuri pulls away blushing, his expression fond.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! this work is rebloggable [here!](http://autistic-viktor-nikiforov.tumblr.com/post/160043097196/bubble-roses-kind-for-the-3-word-prompt-thing)
> 
> alternate title: i know, vitya
> 
> have a great day!!


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